


Dead Things From A Dead Power

by ActualHurry



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2019-11-26 09:54:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18179096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActualHurry/pseuds/ActualHurry
Summary: A collection of works about or including my original fireteam (Kiev, Viper-02, and Ilias).





	1. First Impressions (Kiev + Viper-02 + Ilias)

Kiev was cold.

He opened his eyes with a start, jolting forward and just as quickly falling back. There was a little creature, a drone, floating close to him – as he moved, it zipped after him, pointing its whirly, clicky bits every which way.

Kiev blinked at it.

“Weird bird,” he said.

He was fairly certain this was a bird, anyway. From the next to nothing he could recall of birds, this chittering, flying thing fit the bill.

“Bird?” it demanded, an air of offense in its chiming tone. “I’m a Ghost. I’m _your_ Ghost!” His Ghost’s eye lit up brighter; then, softer – “And I finally found you.”

It disappeared suddenly. Kiev glanced around, half-panicked, but then he heard, “ _Don’t worry, I’m with you! I’m safer here. Let’s get you out of the snow. Come on, now._ ”

That was how Kiev found out that the slick, white cold falling around him was snow.

 

His Ghost distracted some angry, four-armed thing with its flashing lights. Then Kiev tackled the thing to the snowy ground.

They fought, tangled together in bitter survival. Four arms versus two didn’t make for a winning scenario, but what Kiev lacked in experience, he made up for in vigor. Kiev took more than a few jabs to the side, felt ribs snap beneath his scant clothing. He stole the knife from the thing’s belt and stabbed it in the chest before it could get any worse.

Then he fell to the ground, gasping.

His Ghost frantically flicked a blue light over him, up and down. “The Vandal punctured your lung,” it reported, unhappy. “Hang on –”

The sudden warmth was a welcome reprieve from the cold permeating the air. Kiev touched his side lightly.

“I healed you,” said his Ghost, proud. “Take the Wire Rifle, you can use that.”

“Wheraffle?” Kiev asked.

“Wire Rifle.”

He picked up something that had a trigger and looked at his Ghost.

“Yes, that,” it said happily.

He almost blew his own foot off with it, not paying attention, and ditched it in favor of the knife.

 

Kiev killed countless more Fallen. His Ghost filled him in on all of the recent news as he traveled and collected more gear. He stole the cape off a Vandal’s back to use as a scarf, nicked a pair of Shock Blades from another, and rigged a poor set of armor together from things he found in old, forgotten caches.

A month passed before he met another person.

Kiev’s Ghost appeared with a flutter. “Guardians!”

Kiev reached for his Shock Blades, but his Ghost flew determinedly into his shoulder, bouncing back against it, until he stopped.

“Oh, you are definitely a Hunter,” said one of the Guardians. He wore long robes and tall boots, a shiny black helmet masking his face from view. His voice, Kiev thought, was a little like honey.

“Coming from the Cosmodrome?” asked the second, striding up to stand next to him. She stood tall, shoulders wide with confident poise. “That’s no good.”

“We’re new to each other,” said his Ghost.

Robes-and-boots cocked his head and gestured them closer. As they approached, he laughed at Kiev’s gear. “You’re doing good for a toddler.”

The woman shoved Robes-and-boots in a way that appeared light, but sent him stumbling. “Ilias, I know it’s hard to stifle your personality, but try. For me. Thanks.” To Kiev, she said, “We have to get you out of here. It’s not safe.”

“I’ve been fine,” Kiev said.

“I don’t doubt it,” she told him. “But the Vanguard will want to hear about you.”

“Vanguard?”

Ilias and the woman swapped looks.

“Toddler,” Ilias muttered.

She smacked him.

 

The woman’s name was Viper-02. She was an Exo, a Titan, but most of all, she was kind. She called Kiev ‘scrappy’, then hoisted him up without much trouble to keep him from stabbing Ilias on behalf of his Ghost’s honor.

“He’s just like that,” she explained, apologetic. “Ilias, hands.”

Ilias showed his empty hands, nothing up his sleeves, and then gave Kiev a long side-eye.

“I was checking your Ghost for signs of SIVA contamination,” he explained, like that meant anything to Kiev. “Cosmodrome’s on lockdown for that very reason. I was doing you both a favor.”

Viper dropped Kiev when he stopped glaring daggers at Ilias. “He means well,” she said.

“Don’t touch Bird,” Kiev said sharply, rounding his Ghost up with a gentle wave of his hand. He held her close to him.

Ilias shrugged and kept walking onward. Kiev slid a light touch along one of Bird’s corners. Her eye flared happily, then dimmed as she enjoyed the embrace around her small, edgy form.

Viper pat Kiev’s shoulder. “You’ll be alright.”

As if he needed the reassurance.


	2. Making Friends (Kiev + Viper-02 + Ilias)

Viper told Kiev they’d been wanting a Hunter on their fireteam for a while, so if he was interested, they were more than willing to take him in as their third. Ilias didn’t get along with other Warlocks – or anyone, Viper admitted – and Viper wouldn’t have minded another Titan, except for the fact that sometimes, Hunters filled a role no one else could. Kiev understood maybe five of the several words she said and made a mental note to ask again later, if it became really pertinent.

They took him outside, right on the edge of the territory where the Cosmodrome began. Kiev missed that wild freedom, the chance he’d had to roam wherever he’d liked, but he didn’t dislike where he’d ended up – or, at least, the company he’d ended up with.

“You Arc, Solar…?” Viper began, hefting a bright, fiery hammer from her hip as an example.

Kiev and Bird swapped identical wide-eyed looks.

“He hasn’t used his Light yet,” Bird said to Viper.

Viper hooked her hammer on her belt again, the white light of her mouth brightening in surprise as she asked, “At all?”

Kiev held up his borrowed Shock Blades. “These worked fine,” he said.

Viper didn’t have the proper musculature to frown, but she got close. “Right. Well, back in the day, I would’ve said Arc Blades, maybe, but now…”

Ilias cleared his throat, pushing off from the abandoned building he’d been using to lean on. “Void, Viper,” he announced. “He’s Void. Can’t you feel it?”

Kiev’s eyes tracked Ilias as he moved. Ilias full-stopped mere inches front of him, then suddenly reached out to grab Kiev by the chin, thumb digging into the soft underside of his jaw. Kiev recoiled, but Ilias tripped him and Kiev slipped into the snow, going down hard. He swung a Shock Blade out to catch Ilias in the side, but Ilias closed his hand over the electric end and all the lightning went right out of it.

Kiev took quick breaths while he looked between the useless bludgeon he held and the impassive Warlock. Ilias flexed his fingers, blue-white energy clinging to his fingertips. Then Kiev threw both Shock Blades away and tackled Ilias to the ground.

“Oh, hell,” he heard Viper say.

Ilias was quick too, only grunting as his back hit the cold ground before he recovered. They scuffled, Kiev slipping from his grasp when Ilias tried to dig Arc-hot fingers into his wrist. Ilias avoided a full pin thanks only to the little bulk he had on Kiev. Kiev tried to draw the knife from his belt and Ilias threw him onto his back, knocking the wind out of him, then punched him in the face. When Kiev spit the blood from his mouth, a tooth came out with it.

Kiev glared at the sticky red staining the white snow, then launched himself at Ilias again. His heart felt isolated, separate, no roaring pulse in his ears, skin prickling as if he’d looked down from a too-long drop. Kiev came out of the struggle on top of Ilias, his hand fisted around the grip of a blade from nowhere, and with a glance he found that the knife was nothing but smoke and Void in his hold. Even that surprise didn’t stop him from laying the cutting end of the blade against Ilias’ unprotected throat.

Ilias panted, each breath a cloud in the winter air, and dragged his gaze from Kiev’s snarling face  down to the knife and then further down to Kiev’s thighs, planted on either side of his chest.

He held both his empty hands up in a show of peace, his green eyes knowing and amused.

Kiev didn’t move.

“Void,” Ilias declared.

Bird bolted over to Kiev, nudging her pointy form up against his cheek. His gums hurt where his tooth was missing. He tongued at it, then spit blood again, barely missing Ilias’ face. Ilias grimaced.

“There were better ways to figure that out,” Viper sighed. “Ilias…”

Ilias slowly, slowly, chanced reaching down to Kiev’s thigh, patting it. “Down, boy,” he said patronizingly.

Kiev felt the Void blade pulse in his hand, a dark cold unlike the falling snow, and he knew, innately, that if he were to cut through Ilias’ neck here and now that his Ghost wouldn’t be able to heal him faster than the Void would drain his life away. Kiev stared down at him, teeth bared, and just as Viper folded her arms over her chest in his peripheral vision, Kiev dragged the edge of the knife close enough to graze Ilias’ bare skin.

Ilias’ chest jumped with a sharp inhale beneath him.

Kiev let the smoke steal the blade away again, feeling it drip between his fingers like dust, before he got off of him. He offered Ilias a hand up, but Ilias only stared at him a second before pushing himself off the ground without his help.

Bird made a little chirping noise before she disappeared.

“Is this going to be a problem?” Viper asked them both.

“No,” Kiev said. He tongued at his missing tooth again, tasting the copper tang.

Ilias snorted.

Viper looked Kiev over, then stared Ilias down. “I’m not your babysitter,” she said to Ilias, low and firm. “And I _won’t_ rez you if you earned the death. You can wait out your Ghost’s Light by yourself.”

Ilias stayed quiet, but he seemed neither bothered nor concerned about Viper’s ire. When she looked at Kiev, Kiev only blinked slowly at her.

“Alright, scrappy,” she said to him. “Void it is. Can you do it again, without Ilias...helping?”

He could, and he did. Kiev’s knife left a purple, unhealing mark across Ilias’ skin until his next resurrection.

 


	3. History (Viper-02 + Ilias; Kiev)

Viper-02 first woke up in the middle of a thick, humid jungle, right at the cusp of the City Age. She stumbled upon another group of Risen by chance and they all made their pilgrimage to the Last City together, growing larger in number as they traveled. She named her Ghost Lucky, as a reminder of her own fortune. The ragtag band of Risen split up once they reached civilization, and none remembered the others later in life.

Ilias found his second beginning in a riverbed. It was shallow enough that there was no current to whisk him away – his Ghost, Odette, was glad for that – but he still had to fight to the bank, where he coughed up all the water in his lungs before he could demand what in the actual hell was happening to him. He found his way to the Last City by himself some indeterminate amount of years after Viper.

Viper sought out other Exos. She tried to find meaning to her existence, wanted to discover the secrets of her past, but she was unsuccessful. She busied herself with testing guns for Banshee-44, getting involved in the business of weapon foundries, and talking tactical with younger Guardians who stopped by looking for advice. Though many passed through her company with the idea that they’d become something closer to friends than acquaintances, she considered herself lonely. She knew many, but none truly knew her.

Ilias frequented the Crucible, traveled across Earth, and otherwise shut himself into the Warlocks’ library, attempting to divine purpose from old words on older paper. He studied the stars and memorized languages; he made found no friends, but many enemies found him. Rivalries sparked up one after another, and Ilias was forced to go from team-based Crucible matches to Rumble. It suited him fine – he didn’t play well with others.

Countless years later, Viper and Ilias met during a strike on Venus. The Light went out in the middle of their mission. They barely made it out intact. Their third member did not make it out at all.

For the duration of the Red War they stuck together, first out of necessity and then out of familiarity. Ilias helped patch Viper up after a particularly rough gunfight, metal and circuits needing the TLC just as much as her stress-frayed mind. Viper saved Ilias on more than one occasion, sometimes from enemies and sometimes from himself. Their Ghosts got comfortable, they got comfortable, and for a while, even as the nightmare without their Traveler wore on – they were almost alright.

The Traveler returned eventually. Yet even after the Light flooded their bodies a second time and left them something _more_ again, they stayed attached at the hip. Ilias leapt into team-oriented Crucible, provided Viper joined him. Viper ventured out of the City, so long as Ilias trailed along. Their relationship was misread by some; though romance was never in the picture, they were staunchly devoted to one another.

They became each others’ greatest exception.

 

“We’re really bringing him into the fold?”

“We don’t just stumble on a lost, capable Hunter every day.”

“‘Capable’...” Ilias trailed off. Viper stared at him until he lifted his hands placatingly and went on, “He has potential, you’re not wrong. But I wouldn’t call our fanged friend over there particularly _capable_.”

On the opposite side of the snow-dusted yard, Kiev could be seen fitting an incisor into the spot in his gums where Ilias had punched out his tooth. His Ghost flitted around him energetically, zipping closer to peer up into his mouth after he finished, baring his teeth.

Ilias glanced back over to Viper, an inscrutable expression on his face.

“We all have our quirks,” Viper said generously.

“You’re joking.”

“I mean it, Ilias.” She put her palms together in front of her, beseeching. “You’ve made your feelings crystal clear on the matter, but –”

“But we need him,” Ilias sighed. He shook his head, folding his arms over his chest, then looked up at Viper again. He smiled, a touch wry. “I would say I trust your judgment, but you keep me around.”

Viper scoffed and reached out to pat his cheek twice, firm. “You’re alright. Most of the time.”

“ _Most_.”

“You didn’t scare him off.”

Ilias coughed to hide his laugh. “Not yet,” he amended, a wicked gleam to his eye.

Viper went off to chat with Kiev. Ilias watched her go, a weight in his chest, but no worry to speak of. Kiev _was_ capable, as much as Ilias wouldn’t admit it outright. He’d made it through the Cosmodrome well-stocked and unseen. They’d only stumbled upon him thanks to Odette. She had insisted upon another Guardian’s presence on the radar, and with their proximity to the quarantine so close, well...it could have been much worse than a lone, newborn Hunter.

Kiev looked up at Viper as she knelt down to speak with him. Ilias turned on his heel to walk the perimeter.

And so two became three.

 


	4. Oh. (Kiev + Ilias; Viper)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Singsong* Tipsy kisses, mistake smooches-

Kiev was overwhelmed from the moment they reached the City.

“Keep walking, scrappy,” Viper murmured to him as she directed him through the crowds of people. Kiev’s eyes were wide as he looked this way and that; he’d never seen so many people. He’d never been so uncomfortable before.

“Every Hunter gets that look on their face the first time they make it to the City,” Ilias was saying to Viper, walking on her other side. He leaned in front of her, just to peer over at Kiev. “You going to make it?”

“Uh,” Kiev said.

Ilias laughed.

The trio took winding paths between markets and hawkers. A bright-eyed Guardian was not an out-of-place sight here at the lower edge of the City, but they still received wayward glances from many civilians, likely thanks to the tall Exo woman practically shepherding the two men in the direction of the nearest beaten-path bar that she could possibly find.

At the bar, Kiev sat on Viper’s right and Ilias’ left, comfortable between the only figures familiar to him. While waiting for their drinks, Viper explained what the Vanguard was, and then the curious predicament Hunters were in.

“– And so we would let you stay with the Vanguard a while to learn the ropes, but…”

“The Hunter Vanguard is dead,” Ilias interrupted. “They haven’t found someone to fill in for him yet. Big shoes.”

Viper shot Ilias a frown. “It’s a lot of responsibility.”

Ilias offered her a bored shrug. “All the Hunters left the City – not that there were many around in the first place – to keep from getting chosen for the position.” He leaned closer to Kiev, whispering at his ear, “Careful, or you’ll get saddled with the job.”

Kiev, still puzzling out the menu, frowned. Dryly, he said, “I’m not qualified.”

Ilias startled back, somewhere between amused and frustrated that he was amused. Viper’s mouth flickered bright in a grin.

Their drinks came and the night crowd trickled into the bar not long after. Kiev stayed pleasantly huddled between his fireteam members, sipping through one drink and right into another, and then a third. Viper kept them coming, chatting with the bartender as Kiev kept quiet and listened, acclimating to the presence of other bodies in the room. Ilias was watching the screen above the bar closely, and as Kiev swayed a little into Ilias’ shoulder, he worked up some words.

“What’s happening?” he asked Ilias, leaning a little more heavily into him.

“Wh–” Ilias glanced over to him, blinking owlishly. This close, Kiev could make out the flush on his face. Between the both of them, they’d gone through more than double Viper’s drinks. Ilias narrowed his eyes at Kiev, then smiled, slow. “You’re tipsy, is what’s happening.”

That sounded correct. But – “I meant on that. Up there.” Kiev pointed at the people running around and shooting each other on the screen.

Ilias flushed a little darker, turning his head away fast to look at the screen. “Crucible match,” he said.

Kiev felt a prickle of irritation. “You keep saying things like I should _know_ ,” he muttered, slouching. “But I don’t. I don’t know anything.”

There was a stiff silence, and then Kiev felt Ilias’ arm looping around his back, hand resting warm on his hip. It was almost a hug, except for the fact that Ilias wasn’t looking at him, and seemed far happier pretending he wasn’t half-embracing Kiev.

Kiev peeked up at him from where he’d ended up tucked against Ilias’ side, his cheek pressed to his shoulder. It was a nice feeling, not at all ruined by the knowledge of what Ilias’ arms felt like when trying to hold him to the snow. If anything, experiencing Ilias’ competence in violence made the comfort from him that much better.

“You have to learn,” Ilias said against Kiev’s wild hair, hushed, a little like chiding and a little like an apology.

It was the closest thing to a sorry that he’d ever get, Kiev knew. He kept looking up at Ilias, the way his lashes made shadows fall on the angles of his face, the way his typically mussed helmet hair had almost fallen flat from their leisure time in the City.

Kiev was only observing, not acting. It was Ilias who turned his head and pressed their lips together. It was a tentative motion, but as soon as the kiss began, it stayed firm. He tasted like the shock of sweetness from his drink. Kiev made a tiny, small sound, his eyes falling shut while his brows furrowed, and he tried to return the kiss – but it was over in a heartbeat, Ilias yanking away from him with even his neck a little too flushed now. Stricken, he glanced over Kiev, and Kiev followed his gaze to see Viper’s yellow eyes sporting a wider ring of light than usual. It didn’t take another Exo to recognize her shock.

“Ilias?” she asked, high-pitched and surprised.

Ilias only ran his tongue over his lips and ducked his head.

When it became clear Ilias had nothing to say on the matter, Viper turned her attention to Kiev. “Feeling okay?”

Kiev nodded confidently, then he stifled a burp and groaned, leaning his cheek on the cool bar counter. Viper sighed, reaching out to rub his back firmly.

“You’re cut off,” she announced, then side-eyed Ilias. “Both of you.”

Kiev thought very little of the kiss.

Ilias thought too much of it.

 


	5. Patrolling, Part I (Kiev + Ilias)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In response to the poll: Ilias pining.

Patrolling wasn’t always exciting gunfights or discovering old tech or stumbling on a newly-Risen Hunter who looked like a remarkably pretty-faced Eliksni. Sometimes patrolling was as simple and uneventful as finding a spot and staking it out for hours on end until another group of fools settled in for a long standoff with nothing but the air.

Ilias hated it.

Viper had excused herself long ago to run perimeter. She must have tired of watching the sun slowly roam across the EDZ’s barren sky. No clouds today, no hint of any storms, yet Ilias yearned for the touch of static on his tongue just for it to be a little more _interesting_ than the silence surrounding them. He tried avoiding patrol duty as much as he could, but when they were running as low on supplies as they were, any Glimmer helped.

On the grass near Ilias, Kiev was laying flat on his stomach, face tucked into the crook of his elbows. He’d taken his helmet off a while ago in favor of dozing in the sun. Ilias couldn’t blame him – if he’d known things were going to be this boring, he would’ve brought a pillow along in his inventory.

Ilias stared at him for a long moment, then decided to get comfortable, leaning back to rest against the boulder behind him. Kiev’s hair, fashioned into a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck, was short and choppy, the daylight turning some wayward pieces of hair red and brown in his otherwise wild black strands. His messy, uneven fringe hid his sharp brows from view.

Only Kiev’s eyes – closed – remained mostly visible, lashes fluttering as he dreamed.

Ilias froze as he shifted, rolling onto his side, arms curled in front of his chest. His cloak draped around him like a blanket, Kiev settled into his new position with a soft exhale, never once waking.

He looked nearly calm like this, certainly more relaxed than how wound-up with tight attention he usually was. Ilias was always reminded of a mongoose with the way Kiev surveilled the world around him, like each new piece of information might bite him if he looked the opposite direction for even a second. Ilias himself had been hungrier in his pursuit of knowledge. Kiev simply seemed to see _knowing_ as secondhand to other needs.

Kiev’s chest rose and fell in an easy, lax rhythm. His fingers twitched, the fur collar of his cloak moving in the light breeze. Maybe he was still slaughtering Fallen in his sleep, instead of existing miles and miles away from where he’d been Risen, with two new fireteam members to watch his back.

Ilias was suddenly struck with the urge to touch Kiev’s cheek, the skin smooth but a little ruddier than the rest of his face. He wanted to thumb at the curve of dark color beneath his eye, find out if it was a tattoo or facepaint. It almost looked like the markings he’d seen on long-ago photographs of jungle cats, the black around the eyes, smearing down towards his nose –

Unsettled by the amount of thought he was putting into this, Ilias finally glanced away to focus on their surroundings again. He instantly remembered why he’d decided to watch Kiev instead. That’d been more fun to observe, and Kiev wasn’t even prone to drooling.

He checked the sun – Viper would be returning soon. Viper would be returning soon, and Kiev was still asleep, and she’d probably think it was endearing.

Scowling underneath his helmet’s reflective mask, he extended a leg from his own resting place to kick Kiev lightly in the thigh. Ilias expected him to startle, but Kiev only blinked his sleep-hazy gaze to focus on him, stretching himself out lethargically. From here, Ilias could make out the touch of blue in his eyes.

“Falling asleep on the job isn’t a good look,” Ilias said, catching sight of one, sharp incisor as Kiev yawned.

“It’s warm,” Kiev replied, like that explained everything. He sat up, brushing grass off his armor.

Ilias swallowed and did _not_ think about the drowsy rasp in Kiev’s quiet voice. “Lose the cloak then.”

Kiev grinned. There was that tooth again, sharp and out of place. Ilias caught himself staring all over again.

“Good joke,” Kiev said, still with a half-smile that dimpled up his cheeks a bit, that made his eyes brighten, that made Ilias’ ribs wrap tight around his chest.

Viper came back shortly after. Ilias couldn’t quite look at her.


	6. Outing I (Viper; Kiev & Ilias)

Despite other Guardians’ feelings about the City, Viper liked it here. The bustle, the pressure of people around here – none of it bothered her. She liked the little peeks she got into others’ lives while she was down here. A mother buying fruit for her children at the market. A gunsmith selling arms for self-defense, for those Lightless folk brave enough to venture into the wilds. A group of people dancing, swinging their arms together and linking their fingers as they swirled about each other, bouncy rhythms playing from a nearby speaker.

It was mostly humans living beneath the Traveler here. Refugees, scavengers, merchants, civilians. Some Awoken remained in this district too, but they were otherwise spread out and scattered, less numerous than the swarm of humans. Exos were the rarest of all.

As Viper picked through the market stands, she felt a tug at her waist.

She glanced down to see a child – a girl whose raggedy dark hair almost covered her eyes – curiously pulling at her Mark. The girl seemed to steel herself against Viper’s attention, stumbling back and nearly careening right into another man when she lost her balance. She recovered fast, balling her hands into fists and planting her heels with pursed lips.

“Hello,” Viper said, kindly. She turned to face the girl, then knelt down when the child didn’t so much as move. “Can I help you?”

The girl’s lips pressed together even tighter before the words burst right out of her. “You’re a Guardian!” she announced.

“Yes, I am,” Viper replied, amused. “What gave me away?”

The girl’s fists loosened. Her shoulders dropped. “Your Mark,” she said, inching closer so her hushed voice could be heard over the noise of the market around them. “It’s pretty.”

The light from Viper’s mouth brightened. “Thank you. It’s one-of-a-kind. It was done by an artist here, you know. She used to set up shop near the square to the east.”

“So she drew you...” The girl peered around Viper, no doubt trying to get a good look at the Mark again. “Is it the Tower? My brother tells me all about it, he went there once. Before –”

The girl stopped, her gaze skipping up to Viper’s and away again.

Viper’s eyes flickered. “It’s not that tower, little one.” She pulled her Mark free from its binding so that she could let the girl see it completely, laid flat out. “What’s your name?”

“Sadie,” said the girl, scuttling closer to look at the artwork, wide-eyed with admiration. Her fingers rested on the Mark, trailing across the artwork on it. “Have you been here?”

Viper hesitated.

The Mark was a deep color that couldn’t decide whether it was blue or purple or gray or black. A long, tall building loomed within the colors, printed metallic atop the background. It was not a friendly scene, but it was a beautiful picture that held promise. Or perhaps Viper only hoped it held some promise.

She remembered the artist. A beautiful woman with clever brown eyes but a gentle tongue. Her hair had been light blonde with some age to it, pulled up in a loose bun as she’d listened closely to Viper’s description of her dreams. She’d been all tangled up in her sheets while Viper returned to her bed with a cup of coffee. Viper could still recall the way she’d looked back at her as she finally spoke.

_I’ll make it somewhere tangible for you._

“Maybe one day,” Viper said to Sadie. She slowly rose to her feet as she once again attached her Mark around her waist. “I have to go. Do you know where you’re going?”

Sadie smiled a tiny smile up at her. “My brother’s over there,” she said, then pointed at an older boy waiting a few stands down. “I wanna make things for Guardians one day, too.”

Viper felt the ghost of something tight in her throat. “You could start now. If you make something for me, I promise to keep it.” She extended a fist to Sadie, then added with emphasis, “ _Forever_.”

Sadie grinned wider, showing off a missing tooth, then fist-bumped Viper lightly. “Okay.”

 

On the ship, Ilias glanced up from where he was sitting in the kitchen. He pushed back in his chair to get his boots off the table, looking at Viper.

“Took you awhile,” he said, then seemed to give her another look. “Is that a necklace?”

With green and silver beads looped around her neck, Viper stuck out her chin to make the necklace stand out. “Yes,” she said simply. Then, “Clean the table off. Stop putting your feet on it.”

“Like we ever eat here,” Ilias muttered, but got up to fetch the disinfectant anyway.

“Where’s Kiev?” Viper asked, stopping short as Kiev materialized in front of her.

“Sorry,” he said, then looked down at his still-invisible hand. “Still working on it.”

Viper shook her head with a quiet breath of laughter, heading further into the kitchen to put the groceries away.

 


	7. Oh. II (Kiev/Ilias)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Spits this small chapter out*

Viper was out, running some errand for Banshee-44. Kiev was sitting in Ilias’ ship, killing time with him while they waited for her to return, when they both received a message from her:

_Sorry. Expect me tomorrow. Caught up with some Vanguard business._

Ilias’ gaze flicked up from the message to look at Kiev, cross-legged in a chair. He’d gone through three cups of coffee (black – no sugar, no cream), empty mug left on the table in front of him, but didn’t seem affected at all. If anything, he almost seemed drowsy from it. Kiev hummed once at Viper’s message and then waggled two fingers at Bird, bidding her farewell.

Good. Ilias was not one for missed opportunities.

He pushed off from the wall, originally leaning against it while reading a short article on gliding techniques – then walked over to Kiev. The Hunter glanced up at him curiously as he neared, sliding forward to lean elbows against the table.

Ilias took the seat across from him, then smiled slightly. “Just you and me, then,” Ilias said. “Apologies if I’m not the best company.”

“You’re fine,” Kiev said. “Sorry for drinking all your coffee.”

“Pick some up when you’re out next and I’ll consider your debt partially repaid,” Ilias said, waving the words away, then eyed Kiev again. “I only apologize because, well…I don’t have much practice when it comes to entertaining guests who don’t head straight to my bed.”

Kiev drew back a little, then licked his lower lip. It felt so heady suddenly, to imagine that Kiev may be remembering the kiss that Ilias had dared not too long ago.

“You’re fine,” Kiev repeated, but he sounded the words out a little slower.

Ilias smiled a little wider at him, raising his brows as Kiev frowned back.

“That’s…” Kiev trailed off, narrowing his eyes at him. Ilias let himself be scrutinized. “You’re offering?”

This wasn’t exactly the sexiest way this seduction attempt could’ve gone. Ilias mourned it. “If you’re interested.”

Kiev tongued at his fang and Ilias spent an indecent amount of time staring.

“Okay,” Kiev said, sitting back in his seat and kicking his feet out.

“I underst –” Ilias stopped short, heart suddenly rocketing up into his throat. “Hm?”

“I’m interested,” Kiev went on, either not noticing Ilias’ flush or not deigning to mention it, and either way, Ilias owed him an orgasm for at the very least preserving his decency. Kiev planted his hands against the table and peered down at him, Ilias left looking dumbly back at him. “If _you’re_ interested,” Kiev added.

There was a tiny glitter to his eye. He knew what he was doing, the bastard.

Ilias stood up so fast that his chair toppled to the floor behind him.

(He liked Kiev _way too much_.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, bet you never expected "fade to black" from ME...
> 
> Just kidding, I'll write the porn in the next chapter.


	8. Oh. III (Kiev/Ilias)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised...

Kiev kissed like he was hungry for something. Ilias mused over that while Kiev’s hands fisted in his Crucible robe, while Kiev’s tongue teased his, while Kiev curiously bit at his lip. He could feel the hint of Kiev’s stolen fang every so often, tempting him, and it was appealing in the same way that standing at the edge of a long fall was appealing, the tiniest thrill before tipping forward.

Ilias intended on backing Kiev into the bed and climbing over him there, but Kiev slipped out from his hold and was the one to press _him_ to the mattress, knees bracketing Ilias in place. Ilias wouldn’t complain, and in hindsight, he wasn’t sure why he’d expected something demure.

“Kiev,” Ilias breathed, hissing in a breath when that fang skated across his throat. Kiev glanced up, pausing, and Ilias took the chance to pull his dark hair out of its tie, choppy ends falling free around his face.

“What?” Kiev asked, twitching his head a little to get the hair out of his eyes.

Something about it lit Ilias on fire. He grabbed either side of Kiev’s face and surged up to press their lips together, licking into his mouth; Kiev let him, a tiny noise giving his pleasure at it away. Ilias chased that sound, rolled them over with a well-placed leg hooked over Kiev’s hip so that he could rock against him in little hungry motions. Kiev’s low growl of a sound was going to _haunt_ him.

The kiss broke only so that Ilias could begin tugging off Kiev’s armor, his cloak. Kiev helped with little wriggles, which only had Ilias hunting for the friction under him instead. Concentration was a lost cause, Ilias simply wanted _everything_ at once.

“Waste of time,” Kiev huffed, interrupting him. Ilias’ hands stalled where he was working at his gauntlets.

“Excuse me,” Ilias started, but then Kiev’s armor was disappearing from him in a quick glimmering fade. Ilias stared down at his very naked body with something stuck between arousal and surprise.

“It’s faster to transmat it off,” Kiev said simply.

Ilias scoffed, regaining some of his composure. “What about building the _mood_ ,” he was saying, just before Kiev dragged him down to kiss him quiet, his cunning hands sliding beneath Ilias’ robes and unclasping buckles and dragging nails against bare skin when he finally reached it.

Thoroughly convinced, Ilias transmatted his clothes off with a hasty swipe of his hand. Kiev grinned into his mouth.

This wasn’t at all how Ilias had imagined it going. In the majority of his fantasies, he’d pictured himself taking Kiev apart with slow want, coaxing him into making noise with his fingers, making sure Kiev was satisfied several times over even before they moved into the main event. In one of his fantasies, he’d considered fucking him against the wall just to show off, but he supposed Kiev favored his own movement too much for that. Once, Ilias had even surprised himself with an image of Kiev wanton and desperate for it, splayed over his bed, asking for more – well, he’d not lasted long with that one.

But this was…

Kiev dragged teeth across his neck and fingers down his spine, Ilias shivering with it. He reached between them to thumb against the head of Kiev’s cock, listening to the little catch in Kiev’s throat at the feeling.

This was not at all what Ilias had expected, in the end. This was fast, and it was a little dirty, and Ilias hadn’t really had any time to prepare at all. But that was the nature of things involving Kiev; often, it was impulse.

“What do you want, Kiev?” Ilias asked, a little breathless.

Kiev hummed, shifting upwards into Ilias’ hand as he wrapped fingers around him. “This is fine,” he managed.

“Nothing more?” Ilias was hardly even stroking him, content to let Kiev push his hips higher into his fist, over and over again. Ilias swallowed his fluttering heart. “Can I fuck you?”

Kiev’s eyes opened, looking at Ilias with a hazy want. Ilias worked very hard to control the sudden burst of feeling in his chest.

“Is that what you want?” Kiev asked him.

Ilias took a deep, deep breath, then smirked. “As long as I get an orgasm out of it, I’m not picky.”

He had an inkling that this might be the one chance he had with Kiev, so maybe it wasn’t exactly the whole truth. He’d like to fuck him, but he realized he didn’t even know what Kiev had and hadn’t done with anyone else, and maybe he should’ve asked –

“Ilias?”

And if Kiev didn’t sound a little hoarse with desperation, maybe Ilias would have teased him more. He tightened his fist around him, really stroking him now, twisting his wrist a little to hear the answering moan. “Yes,” Ilias breathed.

“You can,” Kiev said, panting lightly. “You can – _ah_. Fuck me –”

Ilias flushed brightly and pretended that he wasn’t so very _caught._ “Yes,” he repeated, voice a little raspy, reaching up to grab the lube from the shelf over Kiev’s head. Kiev’s sharp eyes followed him all the while.

Maybe this wasn’t what either of them had been expected. Ilias had thought he’d be suave as ever – able to tease Kiev into pleas and gasps fairly easily, but he felt like he was stumbling every step of the way. Nervous, maybe. Stupid, definitely.

Not stupid enough to stop the matter at hand, though – and speaking of hand, Ilias kept pumping Kiev’s cock, spreading the pre-cum there with his thumb; if Kiev was dripping like this, then he wasn’t _disappointing_ him, at least. Ilias got the little bottle of lube and handed it off to Kiev, who popped it open between a shiver and a harsher intake of breath.

Ilias held out his fingers for Kiev, expecting him to coat them, but at some point Kiev’s eyes shut while Ilias touched him. That was fine too. Good for his ego, which had been flagging before, but now Ilias felt a rejuvenated sense of purpose. He was in his element, for Traveler’s sake, and _damn_ if Kiev didn’t look good under him, a flush high on his cheeks and his brows furrowed slightly, lips parted and kissed-pink…

Ilias let go of him to take the lube and slick up his fingers himself. Kiev’s eyes opened slowly, looking dazed at the lack of sensation.

“You’re good at that,” Kiev breathed.

Ilias’ confidence _thoroughly_ bolstered, he smiled. “I could keep going.”

“No,” Kiev said, spreading his legs a little wider as Ilias settled between them. “This is good.”

Ilias teased his entrance with a fingertip, then slid in to the knuckle, feeling Kiev relax around him. Kiev let his head drop back against the pillows, chin tilted high and throat bared, and Ilias imagined what dozens of kisses and bites left behind on his skin might look like.

“This isn’t your first time, is it?” he asked suddenly, slowly adding a second finger.

Kiev snorted, his amusement turning into a sigh near the end. “No.”

Ilias was relieved for that. Not that he would mind going through Kiev’s likes and dislikes with him, figuring out what pushed his buttons just right, but he knew what he wanted already, and knowing Kiev was in the same boat made it all the more intoxicating.

“Excellent,” Ilias murmured, feeling Kiev tremble as he stroked his fingers inside of him. “There?”

Kiev’s answering noise was encouragement enough. Ilias fucked him open, slowly first then with a little more insistence. He stroked fingers against the inside of him, splayed them until Kiev shivered, watched with delight as Kiev’s arm went up to the wall to brace himself there against it, like somehow that would help with the hot pressure of Ilias mercilessly finding the spot that’d make him cry out over and over and _over_ –

Kiev was breathing fast by the time Ilias was starting to feel like he couldn’t wait any longer. Finally, Kiev grabbed at his wrist, Ilias’ fingers buried inside of him, and gasped, “Please, please –”

“Oh, _please_ ,” Ilias agreed breathlessly, pulling his fingers out and slicking up his cock instead. He gave himself a few quick strokes, then started to press inside of Kiev, even-paced.

And Ilias took it _very slow_ ; maybe slower than he needed to, but he relished the little changes in Kiev’s expression, first heated and then dizzy and cycling right back around to that same neediness. One of Kiev’s hands kneaded at Ilias’ mattress, the other moving from Ilias’ wrist to his arm, where he held himself over Kiev. It was good, everything Ilias wanted and more. Ilias bit back his own shivers throughout it all.

Kiev stayed still and relaxed until Ilias’ hips were flush to him, then he took a deep breath, already sounding more satisfied. “Feels nice.”

“That’s an understatement,” Ilias managed. “But I appreciate the compliment.”

Kiev’s laugh was lazy and content (and maddening, where they were pressed together), and Ilias was suddenly aware of how much he was playing by Kiev’s rules, how wrapped around the Hunter’s finger he was to so easily give him whatever he wanted out of this, even if Kiev had made it sound like whatever Ilias wanted was on the table. He almost wanted to call Kiev out on it, but he was too busy being impressed. Impressed, and distracted by the heat gathering in his gut.

So Ilias just shook his head slightly, pulling his hips back and pushing forward again. Kiev’s sudden smile only made it very, very obvious that Ilias was right.

That was fine. Ilias wasn’t used to being played, he was used to being the player. He could adapt, anyway. And it wasn’t like he was suffering for it.

He fucked into Kiev with a little more vigor, setting a fair pace that had room to speed up. Sweat gathered at the nape of his neck, curls of his hair tickling his nose as it fell into his face, but Ilias just kept himself bowed over Kiev as he moved into him – staying at the same rhythm, and then faster when Kiev’s breaths eventually evened out.

 _Yes_ , Ilias thought as Kiev’s tiny noises went a touch higher, _yes_ , he thought as Kiev gripped tightly at the sheets. This was it. This was what he’d thought about – pictured – wanted. Kiev’s hand snapped upwards from Ilias’ arm to grab the back of his hair and Ilias’ startled gasp fed into the kiss that Kiev pulled him into, Ilias’ next shove forward sending Kiev further up the bed. Kiev arched into each thrust, hips raised off the mattress, legs curled behind Ilias’ back, and Ilias was quick to get a hand between them to stroke him.

Kiev’s stuttered gasp of _Ilias_ was what did it. Not the hot friction of their skin, not even the sight of Kiev stretched out under him, and somehow not the _thump_ of the bed against Ilias’ wall (he’d already pulled it off the wall once, he hadn’t gotten around to fixing it). It was Kiev groaning Ilias’ name into his mouth and the tremble of his abdomen as the muscles worked to keep up with the heat. It was the scratch of Kiev’s nails in Ilias’ scalp and the pressure of his heels digging into Ilias’ back and the warmth of his breaths coming out too quick.

That was the warmest he’d ever felt Kiev, who tended to run cold and distant – Void never allowed much in the way of pleasant touch –

Ilias came with a jolt, his choked-up groan giving him away as his hips stuttered. He felt electricity on his skin and hoped very, very desperately that he wasn’t about to short out his ship.

He was nothing if not practiced though, biting Kiev’s lip hard as he fucked him through his orgasm, never stopping his hand on Kiev’s cock. It took a few suspended, blissed-out seconds, but then Kiev was coming undone and his own wetness was trapped between their bodies, smeared and sticky there.

Kiev caught his breath while Ilias tucked his face into his neck, uncomfortably hot and wet with sweat and other things alike. With some measure of anticlimactic apathy, Ilias tiredly reached up to Kiev’s head to give him a couple tired pats.

“Good,” Ilias said simply. He pushed himself up off of Kiev, pulled out with a grimace, then flopped over on the other side of the bed, eyes shut.

“Good,” Kiev agreed. After a long moment, Kiev added, “And _we’re_ good? Nothing will be…?”

Ilias laughed suddenly, interrupting his search for the right word. Opening his eyes, he glanced over at Kiev. “What? Wrong, bad, _weird_?”

And despite the abrasive response, despite how defensive he wanted to be…

IIias thought, maybe, he’d gotten it out of his system. And nothing would be wrong, or bad, or weird between them. Not because of what they’d just done – and not because of his feelings.

“No,” Ilias continued, closing his eyes again and slowly willing himself relax. “Everything’s just fine.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't the last of Ilias' big ol crush on Kiev, but it'll be a little less infatuation and a little more...realistic, from here on out. It's like getting close to a piece of art that you've really admired from afar, then being able to see all the little parts of it that maybe you don't jive with as much.
> 
> Anyway~ <3


End file.
